Fat Cat

It's oppressively hot here in New York. A guy just walked into the deli where I am and said in a thick New York accent, "Man, it's hawt as hell in heyah." Today we are supposed to go lie in Central Park. I wanted to go the beach, but it looks like Central Park is in the cards. This is OK, because afterward we will be going to Spanish Harlem and trying to find ridiculously authentic Mexican food. If I don't speak Spanish at least once during our sojourn up there, I will be disappointed.

There is not too much to report from NYC. I got food poisoning two nights ago. I woke up at 130 in the morning, ran downstairs, and vomited up the shellfish I had been eating earlier that evening. I then proceeded to vomit once every ten minutes for the next three hours, finally falling asleep just as the sun was coming up at 5am. But now I feel amazing. It's as if the food poisoning was some sort of full body cleanse. It literally got everything out of me. They say the body is 80% water. I think my body was about 15% water after my few hours in the bathroom.

Last night we went to a jazz club called Fat Cat. I hate jazz. But it was still fun. We played shuffleboard and halfway through the shuffleboard I ditched my teammate to go play chess. I thought the kid was going to be good because he was studying a chess book and had a really concerned look on his face. But I was annihilating him within five minutes. And then I lost my queen. I was devastated but kept playing, and eventually, after at least an hour and half of staring at the board, he let me fork his kind and his queen and I won. I shook his hand, joined my friends, and it was still ridiculously hot outside.

Not it's off to Spanish Harlem. Probably time to get some coconut water, too.